


Aches and stomach pains.

by NovemberWings



Series: Desus Drabbles [1]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Completed, Cuddles and movies, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Lack of Communication, M/M, Misunderstandings, No Negan, One Shot, Sickfic, flinching, reassurance, the beginning of a relationship, throwing up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-08
Updated: 2016-11-08
Packaged: 2018-08-29 23:01:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8508898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NovemberWings/pseuds/NovemberWings
Summary: Jesus feels really ill one night while staying at Daryl's in Alexandria and ends up being sick. Leads to many misunderstandings and Jesus needs a hug. One shot.





	

Jesus kept tossing and turning in bed. However he lay his stomach felt funny. He had a sickly feeling in his throat as well. Lying there, eyes shut, trying to sleep but he knew in the back of his mind he was going to have a bad night. He didn’t feel comfortable just getting up out of bed and going downstairs with a glass of water and a book; he didn’t want to disturb Daryl. This was his house after all and he was only here because Daryl was letting him and because he didn’t trust Jesus anywhere else in Alexandria- except maybe the cell. He didn’t want to be demoted to that so he would just deal with it and try and sleep.

He felt his stomach turn and twist harsher than it had before and the sickly feeling in his throat got stronger. He raised his hand to his mouth and his head thumped, he was sure that the thumping would be audible in the next room. He couldn’t just stay here. He bolted up and ran into the bathroom.

In the pitch black he kneeled in front of the toilet and started heaving. He felt his hair fall onto the side of face, but he couldn’t bring himself to take his hands off the toilet seat and pull his hair out the way. Right now his head was spinning and he was sure he had tears rushing down his face; the only thing keeping him grounded was his hold on the seat.

His stomach started to cramp as he retched and he threw up his last meal. He tried to be quiet but he was quite aware he was being quite loud. In the dark bathroom Jesus found himself wishing that the world was normal and he had his roommate or a boyfriend with him. He closed his eyes and pushed away that fake hope knowing that he would just have to sit in the dark and ride this out alone.

Suddenly, the light of the bathroom switched on and Jesus closed his eyes, cringing, knowing Daryl was going to be pissed that he had been woken up. Then he felt hands on the side of his face making him flinch slightly, then retch into the toilet throwing up some bile. But all the hands did was pull his long hair out of his face, and Jesus found himself being grateful. He coughed a little, and Daryl placed a large hand on his back. The white shirt he was wearing now was covered in sweat from the shakes of his body. Jesus let out a shaky breath.  
“S-sorry” Jesus stuttered out between ragged breaths- clutching the seat tighter. Daryl rubbed his back slightly from side to side, feeling the tense muscles.  
“Shhh.” Daryl said gently, “Don’t worry about it, jus’ take deep breaths. Relax, Paul.” Jesus nodded at Daryl’s words but then retched again. One hand left the seat and clutched his stomach as it ached from the continuous tensing. Without warning, Daryl’s hand left his back and Jesus heard his footstep walking away and going down the stairs. He let out a little sob at the loss of contact and company. He was so alone- he hated most of the people at Hilltop and he just didn’t fit in at Alexandria. He was truly alone, and when he needed someone they just got up and left.

More tears trailed down his face and he let out sobs between retches. The sobs got quite violent and in consequence he started to retch harder and choke. Suddenly, he heard Daryl’s voice and footsteps running towards him.  
“Woah, woah Paul. Calm down, come on.” He felt Daryl kneel behind him and rub his back just as before. “You’re okay, Paul, jus’ breath. I’m here. Look I got ya some water, try a sip.” Jesus realised that he had made a mistake and he leant back and accepted the glass that Daryl was offering him. He took a tentative sip and swallowed, the water feeling awesome on his troat.

Jesus turned his body and looked at Daryl, making eye contact, and said the most heartfelt ‘thank you’ he had ever uttered. Daryl just nodded.  
“Are ya okay?” He asked as Jesus took another sip and swallowed, feeling more confident. Jesus nodded;  
“Yes I think I’m finished, I’m sorry.” He said again, he didn’t really want to go to the cell but he guessed it was his own fault for waking Daryl. He didn’t want to be alone, but that wasn’t his decision to make.  
“Why do you keep sayin’ sorry?” Daryl asked, frown practically lacing his voice.  
“Because I woke you up.” Jesus said sheepishly, looking down at his knees. Daryl grabbed his chin gently, but firmly, and lifted his head making him look at Daryl’s face.  
“I’m not mad, stop sayin’ sorry.” Jesus nodded and Daryl let go of his chin. Jesus raised the glass to his lips and took another sip. “How are ya now?”  
“I’m okay, thank you for staying with me.” And he meant it, he really was grateful.  
“It’s fine. Go get a clean shirt on an’ down stairs.” Jesus nodded and stood shakily, making Daryl reach out and steady him. “You good?” Jesus nodded and made his way to his room. He stripped his shirt and pulled on a new long sleeved white shirt. He made his way to the door and then on second thought grabbed his coat. If he was going to the cell he wanted his jacket with him.

His stomach still ached, but it was empty and he had nothing more to throw up so he was pretty sure he wasn’t going to be sick again. He shakily made his way down the stairs, gripping the railing tightly. A sight that just seemed wrong as he was the ‘ninja’ struggling to get down the stairs. 

He did manage to get to the ground floor and he noticed the light was on in the living room. He made his way to the living room and saw that Daryl was in the middle of throwing a blanket over the large sofa, and there was a glass of water and a chopped up apple on the coffee table, next to some DVDs.

Jesus took the sight in with a slight frown- confused. Daryl looked up at him, slightly adorable in just a normal black t-shirt and plaid pyjama trousers. A frown found Daryl’s face when he saw Jesus, making the man feel uneasy.  
“Why are you wearin’ your jacket?” Daryl asked him, and suddenly Jesus felt a little sheepish.  
“Because I thought you were going to take me to the cell.” He replied in a quiet and uneasy voice.  
“Why did ya think that?” Daryl asked straightening up from smoothing out the blanket on the sofa and making his way towards Jesus.  
“Because I woke you up, I thought you were going to be pissed off. I thought you were going to take me there so you can sleep properly.” He said looking down at his shaking hands, rubbing them together. Daryl took a step back, apparently shocked at Jesus’ reply.  
“Paul,” He paused waiting for Jesus to look up at him, so Jesus lifted his eyes and met Daryl’s, “I’d never do that to one of my friends. I’m here for ya, I may not be tha best at makin’ ya feel better, but I’d never leave ya on your own and I would never put you in a cell for waking me up.” He looked hurt, so Jesus decided to explain his rational.  
“I thought you were only letting me stay here because you wanted to watch me and didn’t trust me anywhere else.” Daryl stared at Paul and then shook his head.  
“No. I’m letting you stay here ‘cause I like you and yer funny an’ shit. I thought we could maybe sit down and watch a movie tonight ‘cause I have a feelin’ your not gonna sleep much, so I don’t want you to be alone an’ ill in the middle of that night.” Daryl said and then gestured to the set up he had made.

Jesus nodded and felt a smile find his face. He still felt awfully queasy but he had to admit the idea of watching a movie was brilliant right now. Daryl’s frown lifted when he saw Jesus smile. Jesus shrugged off his coat, wincing at the stab of pain in his gut and placed it on the floor- not too concerned about it at the moment.  
“Come on.” Daryl said gently, and led a dizzy Paul to sofa holding his arm for support. Jesus gently lowered himself onto the seat and settled under the blanket, legs tucked tightly underneath him. Now he was sitting the dizziness and thumping in his head subsided a little.

Daryl sat by him, feet on the ground, lap covered partially by the blanket. Daryl leant forward and pulled the pile of around three DVDs onto his lap and read the titles.  
“Grease, The Purge, or Nightmare before Christmas?” He asked Paul. Paul smiled, knowing his choice immediately.  
“Grease, definitely Grease. It was one of my favourite movies before all of this. I didn’t think I’d ever see it again. I’m not sure you’ll like it though.” Jesus said as an afterthought, but Daryl was already putting the DVD in the TV.  
“Don’t matter, this is your night. You need to feel better, an’ if you wanna watch Grease we’ll watch Grease.” Daryl said defiantly. Jesus nodded and smiled as Daryl settled under the blankets next to Jesus and the familiar beach opening scene started. Maybe this night was going to be much better than Jesus ever thought.  
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Turns out Paul did get some sleep. Towards the end of the movie Paul drifted off, snuggled up to Daryl in his arms, with Daryl enthralled in his new favourite film. And this was only the beginning.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, and I'm sorry if the end felt a little rushed, please leave a comment if you can. All constructive criticism welcome.


End file.
